Nèniel
by Foxhead
Summary: A young elf is leaving for Aman (Valinor). On her last day in Middle-Earth, she meets someone who changes her life. The first chapters have a lot of elements from the Silmarillion in them, I'll try to make the rest more LOTR related ^^;
1. The Stranger

**A/N:** This, is long overdue, considering I've had an account here since spring, but here it is, my first fic! Hope you like it :)

**Note on repost: **I'm afraid that I'm a bit of an perfectionist, so I fixed some small details like paragraphs and such…

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It had been a long journey, but finally, Nèniel and her family had reached the shore of the Great Sea. There, at the gates of the Grey Havens, Cìrdan himself greeted them, for it was now rare to see elven children, and this was an opportunity that he didn't want to miss.

Nèniel's little sister giggled loudly when the old elf lifted her high in the air.

"It pleases an old elf's heart to see a smile on such a young face, especially in hard times like this," he said, and let little Alwen tug his beard. This made the little elf giggle even more.

Then Cìrdan turned to the parents, who were smiling at him.

"I welcome you both, but I fear I won't be enjoying your company for long?" 

"No, I'm afraid not," said Nèniel's father, "we're here at the same errand as most of our kin. We're leaving."

"Then I won't stand in the way," Cìrdan said, and added with a smile, "some of you are certainly eager to get in." He cast a glance at Nèniel, who was nearly jumping up and down in excitement.

He then put Alwen back in her mother's care, and stepped aside, allowing the family to enter the Havens.

The city itself, with its grey buildings, weren't what amazed Nèniel the most, even though they were as grand as the elves could make it; it was the ships, which first caught her eyes. Even though their colour wasn't of the most eye-catching, they were nothing like she'd ever seen before. The swan-boats of Lòrien were beautiful in their way, but this! She had great difficulties in keeping her eyes from them. 

But, in all its splendour, the city (and the ships) had an essence of sadness with them. Nèniel felt it at once, and it mingled with her own sorrow, and made it even greater. She envied Alwen, who was to young to feel the sense of loss that came with the thought of leaving Middle-Earth, the place she'd spent her first 20 years in…

A voice came in, and erupted her thoughts.

"Our ship isn't leaving 'till tomorrow, so we'll have to find a place to spend the night." The voice belonged to her father.

"I doubt that I shall be able to sleep tonight," Nèniel said, "so why don't you search for a place to sleep, so can I go explore?"

This made her father laugh. " You surely remind me of myself," he said, "you go ahead, and we'll meet again here tomorrow. But don't be late! We wouldn't want to leave without you."

"I won't be late!" She smiled, and ran off.

The rest of the day, she spent at the harbour, watching the ships, and the elves that were making them ready for the long travel across the Great Sea. She was even allowed aboard one, which she later discovered was the same ship her family would be leaving in.

But at nightfall, she decided to have a stroll on the shore, and watch the stars of Middle-Earth one last time.

So she walked, singing a few tunes about the sea and the stars, and watching the moon journey across the sky.

It was nearly dawn when she heard it for the first time, the music. Music of a kind she'd never heard before, beautiful as the rays of sunlight a summer morning, and still sad and dark like the fabled deeps of Moria. 

She walked in the direction of the music, and soon, she could see where it was coming from. A cloaked figure was sitting near a fire, and in his hands, he was holding a harp, which he was playing. He didn't notice her before she came close enough to see his face, then he slowly lifted his eyes to gaze into hers. 

"What do you want?" he demanded, his voice was sad, like one who'd seen too much; as was his eyes.

"Nothing, just to listen to the beautiful music," she answered, "Did you make that?"

"Not that it's important, but yes. And I thank you for the compliment".

"You're welcome".

There came a moment of painful silence, which Nèniel tried eagerly to fill.

"Then you must be a famous composer!"

"I used to be," he answered reluctantly.

"You're not anymore…?"

"No. They're gone, and there's nothing more for us to do than wait."

"They? Us?" Nèniel asked, curiously. There was obviously more to this stranger than what caught the eye.

"Well, I guess it's not _us_ anymore, I'm the only one left".

Nèniel puzzled on this last answer for a while, and then asked, "What are you waiting for?"

"For the world to change, for that that is hidden to be revealed".

"Oh…" Nèniel was now even more confused, but there was something in the back of her head that was stirring, some tale she'd heard a long time ago.

"Then what are _they_?"

"Have you ever seen a diamond?"

"Um…yes, once, what has that got to do with it?"

"Imagine a diamond, perfectly round, and shining with an inner light."

"Yes…"

"Time that with a hundred, no, wait, a thousand. Then you might get close to what they were."

"You're not talking about the…" No! That was impossible!

"Let's not talk anymore about them, they have disappeared a long time ago," the elf said, "who are you, by the way? Young elves are rarely seen nowadays, for you must certainly be young. Who are your parents?"

"My parents are…wait!" She turned around to watch the sun; it was already high in the sky, "I'm terrible sorry, but I have to leave, I promised to meet them at this time".

"You're going to Aman then? Guessed so. Well, I'd better be going too," he got up and put out the fire.

"It has been nice meeting you," Nèniel said.

"Well, I must say, it has done me good to look upon such a young face," he smiled, and started walking in the opposite direction.

"Wait!" Nèniel called after him, "you never told me your name!"

"My name," he turned with a smile, "is Maglor".

Nèniel opened her mouth, but couldn't get a word out; she just stood there, staring at his back, until it disappeared behind a dune. Then she slowly turned, and made her way back to the Grey Havens…

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So, did you like it? Did you hate it? Please tell.

**Disclaimer: **Let's just say, if you recognize it, then it's either not mine, or you're having a strange fit of Dèja Vu :) So don't sue me!


	2. Goodbye

**A/N: **Um…I never thought about writing a second chapter, but here it is! Hope you like it, and…um…there are still a some elements from 'the Silmarillion' in it ^^;

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"Where have you been?!" Nèniel's father exclaimed. "We've waited for over an hour!"

Nèniel just stood there, her eyes was unfocused, like she was looking at something far away.

"Daddy?" Alwen looked up at her father with her big, brown eyes, "are we going to the ship now?"

The sound of her little sister's voice made Nèniel snap out of her thoughts, and back to the real world.

"I am sorry," she said solemnly, "I truly am".

"Ah, well, what's done is done. And besides, we'd better get going." He waved towards the sun. "Come on, your mother is waiting."

They half walked, half ran towards the harbour. There, besides the grey ship, stood Nèniel's mother.

"Good, there you are." She looked relived at her husband and youngest daughter. Then she turned towards Nèniel, her eyes weren't as mild now. "You have quite an explanation to do!"

"I'm sorry," Nèniel whispered.

"Yes, yes, of course you are," her mother replied, then she smiled, "but never mind, we have to get onboard now."

Nèniel was clearly reluctant to go onboard. Her eyes kept flicking towards the south. 

_This is wrong_, she thought, _I shouldn't be leaving! _

She shook her head, and went up the ladder onto the deck. The doubt weighted heavily on her, something that didn't go unnoticed. 

"Nènie?" Alwen was tugging her sleeve, "is there something wrong?"

"No, little sister, at least nothing you should bother yourself with," she smiled at her.

The ship started moving – slowly, since there was no wind – and Nèniel lifted Alwen up to gaze at the slowly shrinking Havens. 

"Wave goodbye to Middle-Earth now," she whispered in her ear. But as she said this, a thought struck her so hard that she nearly dropped her sister. It was too early. She wasn't destined to leave yet.

Acting on impulse, she put Alwen down, kissed her on the forehead, and before anyone could react, she'd climbed over the rear, and let herself drop into the ocean.

"Nènie! Nènie!" 

Alwen's frustrated cries rang in her ears as she started swimming towards the coast, and soon they mingled with her parents yelling. Nèniel tried frantically to ignore them, and focus on the swimming, but it was hard. She was, after all, young, and had still strong bonds with her family. 

Nèniel soon realised that she had strongly miscalculated the distance between the Havens and the ship. When she'd swim for 15 minutes, the shore was still far away, and she was growing weary. At times, she looked back, but now the grey ship had disappeared behind the horizon. Still, she could swear that she could hear Alwen's cries; or maybe it was just in her head.

She'd never been this far from her family before. 

This didn't exactly help on her weariness, and soon the world consisted only of herself and the sea. She drifted off to darkness.

After what seemed like an eternity, she could hear voices. Strange voices.

"An elf? Here?" – one of them was saying.

"Queer" – said another voice.

"I wonder. What could she be doing here?"

"Didn't you see? She leaped from the grey ship."

"But, what should we do with her?"

At this point, Nèniel opened her eyes; in front of her was to strange shapes. They were standing on the water, like if it was firm ground, and they looked strangely…transparent.

"We could leave her to her fate…" - the first voice said.

"No, that would be cruel. Besides, she is not destined to end here." – the second voice said.

"How would you know?"

"I don't know, I just do…"

"Ah, well, let's help her then!"

Nèniel felt like something lifted her up, and carried her away. Above her, the stars were shining. Her eyes drifted towards Eärendil, and to the brightest star of all.

"Maglor…" she whispered. And from that moment, she knew she had to find him again.

After a long while, the creature, or whatever it was that were carrying her, stopped, and she was flung through the air, and landed on a soft dune. She felt the soft sand between her fingers, and gave a weak smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. Then a welcomed darkness flowed in over her. 

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Please review!

**Disclaimer: **Same as with last chapter ^_^;;


	3. And They Meet Again

_She was standing in a great hall, so big that she could hardly see the southern part. The walls and floors were all strangely transparent._

_'What kind of place is this?' she thought. Then she heard it._

_"Nènie!"_

_Her head whipped around. There, at the other end of the hall, her little sister stood, smiling and waving._

_"Alwen!"_

_Nèniel ran forward, slipping on the wet floor. Then she struck something. It looked like a grey fog, but was solid as a rock wall. Through it, she could see her sister still standing there, smiling. Then two other people came in. Her parents._

_"Mother! Father!"_

Her cry could might as well have been a birdcall, so much did they heed it. Then, taking Alwens little hands in theirs, they started walking in the opposite direction. 

_"Wait! Don't go! Don't leave me!" Nèniel banged her hands on the wall of fog. "Mother! Father!"_

_ She fell to her knees, still hitting the wall with all her might; it didn't move. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "please come back…Please!"_

Nèniel woke with a start. The sun had just risen above the sea; the first rays of light touched her face, warming her. She slowly put a hand to her face. It came back wet.

"So I have been crying in my sleep," she murmured.

Slowly, the recent events came back to her. Her mad attempt to swim towards the coast, the strange creatures that had helped her, and the dream.

'A nightmare, no more!' she thought, but it didn't convince her. 'They…left me.' 

She gazed westwards. 

"Wonder if they've reached Valinor yet?" she said aloud. "For how long have I been sleeping?"

"Not long." 

Nèniel spun around. Her worried expression soon turned into a smile as she saw who was standing in front of her.

"Maglor." 

He smiled, or, his mouth smiled, his eyes were still cold and emotionless.

"I must say, it's hard to get rid of you."  

"Really?"

"I thought you were leaving." 

"I was." 

Thoughts of her family returned, and she bowed her head and went silent. A single tear fell from her eyes and down into the sand, where it soon disappeared.

Maglor either didn't notice, or pretended not to, for he said nothing.

For a while they sat there, silent, gazing westwards. Then Maglor spoke again.

"This is indeed strange. An elf sees the sea, but refuses to leave, even though her family goes west. There must be a grand reason behind this. But what?"

She said nothing.

"Could I maybe be so blunt as to suggest myself?"

A slight sound from Nèniel confirmed this suggestion. He sighed.

"I thought my time of bringing others pain was over."

"Don't blame yourself!" Nèniel exclaimed, "this was my choice, and even though you might have had a small part in causing it, it's still not your fault!"

She turned away from him, so to hide the tears that appeared in her eyes.

A breeze swept inwards from the sea, bringing scents from a far away country. It touched her cheek as if comforting her, and went on. She took a deep breath and blinked to remove the tears. For a while she watched the sunlight play on the sea, then she turned back to Maglor.

"Though my family has left, I still have some close kin in Mirkwood. Do you know where that is?"

"I'm sorry, this land has changed much since I came here. I know naught of such a place."

"Oh," she tried not to sound disappointed, "I was hoping that you could show me the way."

"'Tis far from here, I would say. Lindon is the only place in this new world that I know, and there were no dark wood here, only green fields. "

He sighed.

"Alas for Beleriand, and all that was lost in its downfall!"

This last sentence made Nèniel suddenly realise who she was talking to. This wasn't one of the elves from back home; this was one of the great Noldor lords of old!

"I-I'm sorry-" she stuttered, "-for being so uncouth. I forgot who I was talking to."

"Whom are you talking to then?" he sounded amused.

"One of Feanor's sons."

He laughed.

"Little lady, the honour in that ancestry died with the silmarils."

"Little lady? That's what L-" she trailed off, memories of her home was too much for her right now.

"L? L who?"

"No one."

"I see…"

Nèniel decided that it was time to change subject, so she asked a question that had been on her mind for quite a while now.

"You probably like travelling alone, but-" she took a deep breath, "-could I accompany you? I have nowhere to go now, and maybe, if I went with you, we'll meet someone who could tell me the way back to Mirkwood."

She looked up at his face, worried that he might be angry at her question, but Maglor only smiled.

"I've only talked to you for a few hours, and still I can sense a turn in my mood," he said, "yes, you are welcome to accompany me."

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Yeah, yeah, I know it was short… But did you like it? Please review ^_^

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine… 


	4. Years Later

**A/N: **First of all, I want to say a big "thank you!" to the people who've reviewed this. You had me floating half a meter above the ground for hours ^___^

Second, I know I talked about "swan boats of Lòrien" in my first chapter. Nèniel is actually from Mirkwood, she and her family just visited friends and kin in Lòrien before they left for the Havens.

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Nèniel poked the last glowing embers of the dying campfire with a twig; it was nearly dawn, and a new day of wandering stood before them.

Thirty times the seasons had turned since they'd first met, and still they were traveling together. 

Many had seen them on these journeys, but never as more than two shadows, the one slightly larger than the second. Maglor distrusted humans, and kept himself far from their realms. Therefore, they rarely heard news of the world, and knew not of the great menace that was rising in the east. They still believed it to be living in the north, in Mirkwood, Nèniel's old home.

In the first years of their travels, Nèniel often thought about her family, and of her previous life; sometimes, the memories even drove her to tears. At these moments, Maglor sought away, believing that the best thing for the young elven girl was to be alone with her grief. Now, she rarely thought of them, and when she did, it was like memories of a past life, or of an age long since past. She thought of them with glee, for she believed her family to be happy in Valinor, even thought she knew they must miss her, as she did them. Little did she know of the white stone covered with fresh flowers and marked with her name, or of the grey room, filled with her belongings, that was a part of her family's house in the land beyond the sea.

Neither did she know that her kin in Mirkwood, who had long since gotten the message of her parting with the ship, grieved over her in the same way. Her time with the Maglor had taught her humbleness, and she didn't think of herself as so important now. 

Her life merely consisted in journeys, and music. Maglor, who had been one of the most famous composers of the First Age, had taught her to love music, and to consider it as a way to express emotion. This had helped her a lot; and sometimes, when they'd stopped to rest for the night, she would walk under the trees, singing songs her cousin had taught her, long ago, in their homeland. 

Of all her kin, it was he, and Alwen, that she missed most. She missed the look on Alwen's face when she told her one of the many tales of the First Age; a mix between excitement and fright. And she missed her cousins amused look when he tried unsuccessfully to teach her how to use the bow. A more patient soul was hard to find, considering the hundreds of times she'd let go of the bow at the same time as the arrow. But, after a while, he'd had to give up, seeing that she made no progress in the six months they'd practiced. So he thought he should teach her how to sing instead. Something in which she was far more talented. 

But that was a long time ago, more than half her lifetime; and, she reminded herself, you should not live in memories.

She looked up, Maglor had returned.

"Are we going far today?" she asked.

"No, not farther than we normally do. But we are far from the sea now, and I'd like us to move southwards again."

"Well, you are the one with knowledge of maps; I just follow you," she smiled. "You were gone when I woke, how far did you go?"

"To the outskirts of an abandoned human city, a big one, like I've never seen before. Half of it is on this riverbank, the rest is on the eastern side."

"You sound worried. Why? If it is abandoned, why should we fear it?"

"There is a presence there…I don't know what it is, but it is familiar."  
"What kind of presence? Good or evil? You must know that at least."

"Well, there is a sense of evil there, though it is old. But there's something else there, neither good nor evil. I do not know what it is."

"Then we won't go near it," Nèniel smiled, and stood up. She stamped out the few remains of the fire, picked up her few belongings, and started walking southwards. Maglor quickly followed.

They'd walked for two hours when Nèniel first caught a glimpse of the city, far of to the left. It was indeed huge, bigger than the Grey Havens or any other city she'd seen. There was a sense of foreboding over it, like an ancient graveyard, but she felt nothing of the presence Maglor had talked about.

Her inborn curiosity soon brought her to asking Maglor if they could go closer. He was reluctant to, but couldn't see any reason why they shouldn't. So they walked nearer to the city. 

They were close to the city gates; big metal doors that might have been glorious in their time, but who now looked pitiful. They were scattered with cracks and gaps, and overgrown by all sorts of climbing plants.

Nèniel peeked in through one of the gaps. She could see abandoned streets and buildings. 

"We cannot linger," Maglor said, worried.

"Why? I wonder what is in there. What it is that is causing this…this…" she waved her hand in the air, "this presence you are talking about." she looked at him solemnly, "I'm going in."

"You are too curious for your own good," Maglor said, "but if you go in, then I'm coming with you."

Nèniel gave the doors a little push, and to her surprise, they sprung open. 'This city might not be so abandoned after all,' she thought in excitement. So she waved for Maglor to follow her, and stepped inside.

It was huge, that was the first impression she had. The buildings were larger than anything she'd ever seen before; and the architecture was completely different from what she was used to. It didn't look like the battered houses of the small human villages they'd seen. 

Something was stirring in her mind, a memory from when she was young. 

*****

"Oh, Nèniel, you're hopeless!" her cousin said in a teasing manner. Then he bent down to pick up the dropped bow.

"Do I have to practice more today?" she asked, "can't you tell me a story instead? Mum and dad are too busy with Alwen, they don't have time to." She looked up at him pleadingly.

He laughed, "Well, I might as well. What do you want to hear then, little lady?"

She giggled, "Tell me a true one!"

"Let's see," he said, "I will tell you of the coming of the men of Nùmenor, and the founding of the realms, Arnor and Gondor."

*****

"Osgiliath," she muttered. 

"What did you say?"

"Osgiliath. This is the old capital of Gondor!" 

She stood there for a while, as if lost in thought, and then she started whispering:

Tall ships and tall kings 

_ Three times three,_

_What brought they from the foundered land_

_ Over the flowing sea?_

_Seven stars and seven stones_

_ And one white tree._

"What was that?" Maglor looked at her in surprise.

"A poem I learned as a child. But that's not the point; I think I know what you are sensing. Come on!" she waved him further into the city.

It took her longer than she thought to reach the city center - nearly one and a half hour – but finally, they could see the remains of the Dome of Stars.

It would've looked like a normal house - if, indeed, there were houses of that size – if not for the giant oval of glass that was it's roof.

Although the city had been abandoned centuries ago, the roof had stayed whole, thanks to the hard work of craftsmen from Minas Tirith. It was an amazing sight, but Nèniel had other things on her mind at that moment. 

She went first and gave the doors a push. They fell backwards with a dull thud. Inside it was dark, except for a small source of light further inside. Without caution, she ran in.

The light was coming from a staircase.

"Wait Nèniel! Don't!" Maglor yelled after her, but it was too late; she'd already gone up the stairs. A cry came from above, but it was not a cry of terror; Nèniel had found what she was looking for.

He quickly ran up the stairs, and entered a giant hall. At the center, Nèniel was bending over something; it looked strangely like an altar. It was about one foot across, and in the middle, there was a perfectly round hole, like if it had been holding a large sphere of some sorts. 

The presence was stronger here.

Nèniel grinned up at him, but when she saw his confused look, she stopped smiling, and looked up at him in wonder.

"Do you not know what this used to hold?"

"No, but the presence is stronger here."

"It used to hold the greatest of the palantìri!"

"The palan-! But I thought they never left Valinor!"

"They were given as a gift to the house of Elendil; back in the time before Nùmenor perished."

A look of shock, then wonder, appeared on Maglor's face.

"But where is it?"

"It disappeared long ago; I don't know where it went, but the humans haven't got it."

As they stood there, the sun went down, and darkness fell over the world. 

In another part of the city, fell creatures was pouring out of an old storage building. One of them soon gave a cry in delight; it had found fresh footsteps in the sand…

"We cannot stay here," Maglor said, "night-loving creatures often dwell in abandoned cities."

But it was too late. Even as they were running down the stairs, they could hear horrible voices outside.

"Orcs!" Maglor sounded surprised, "does those wretched creatures still roam this world?"

Nèniel was speechless. Orcs… Even in dark Mirkwood, they were only a foul memory, not easily spoken about.

"Run!" Maglor insisted, "I might be able to hold them off."

"But…"

"Run!"

She reluctantly backed out the door, and ran around the nearest corner. If it was luck or fate that saved her, she didn't know; for the orcs ignored her and went straight for the Dome. In the doorway, she could see Maglor standing, proud as ever.

What was going to happen, she already knew, for he had no weapons. Still, the first blow struck her as hard as if it was she standing there, not him. She could see him falling to the ground; his eyes straying past hers for a moment, and then they were closed forever.

"No," she whispered, tears appeared in her eyes, "no, NO!" She flung herself forward, and was stopped. Someone had laid a hand on her wrist.

"You can do nothing for him now," a voice said in her ear, "stay here."

The last thing she saw before she fainted was the shape of a man, running forward, and assaulting the orcs from behind. Then she faded off to darkness.

*

She woke.

It was cold and dark. _Must still be night,_ she thought.

"Ah, you're awake!" a voice came from behind.

"Maglor?" she said, then, "oh, no, he's gone."

"So that was the name of your friend? Curious."

"What is?" she said. _Why am I so emotionless?_

"A Noldo, and a young Silvan maiden, traveling together. And the Noldo's name is Maglor, of all things!" he looked at her, his eyes gleaming in wonder, "why were you here? This land did rarely see elves before the Last Alliance, and almost never after. And a Noldo! Who was he?"

"He was Maglor."

"Yes, but of what house?"

"You seem to know quite a lot about elves, I'm surprised you haven't heard of Feanor and his sons."

'He was my only friend for over thirty years! Why am I talking about him like I barely knew him?' she thought. 

"I have, but I couldn't believe it! It's told he disappeared thousands of years ago!"

"So did they tell in Mirkwood too; but it seems he didn't." She looked at him intently; "I saw you running towards the orcs, were you able to-" she trailed off.

"Save his body? Yes, but the orcs had mistreated him so badly; I didn't know how you would react when seeing him." He turned towards a small collection of trees. "I buried him beneath them."

Nèniel got up. She swayed a little, and the man stood up and supported her.

"Who are you?" she asked, "you are a human, if my knowledge of this world aren't deceiving me. But still, you speak our language fluently. Tell me, what is your name?"

"I was raised by elves. As for my name; well, I have many, but you can call me Estel."

"Estel?" she raised an eyebrow, "that is a strange name."

"Really? May I be as blunt as to ask for yours?"

"Nèniel," she said, "my name is Nèniel."

They were close to the trees now; Nèniel could see a pile of newly dug earth, close to one of the oaks. She slowly went over, and sat down by the grave.

"_Lennmaer_," she whispered, "_lennmaer, nîn meldir, lennmaer_"

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I am no expert in elven languages, not at all, actually, so that last line is probably wrong. It's supposed to be _goodbye, my friend, goodbye._

I could find no Sindarin word for goodbye, only the Quenya one, Namarie. And it would seem weird for a Silvan maiden to speak 'elvish latin,' so I put together journey (lenn) and good (maer). Nîn means my (or me, mine), and Meldir means (male) friend (not to be confused with boyfriend ^_^)

It is probably horribly wrong, and if anyone with a little more knowledge of this could correct me, feel free to ^_~

And anyone with their wits with them have probably guessed who her cousin is ^_^  But I won't say anything before the next chap, or the one after that.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, not mine, not mine ^_^ 


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